


Bothered

by stephanericher



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, KNBxNBA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 23:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11001336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: Maybe it's the heat.





	Bothered

**Author's Note:**

> im ready for summer hbu?
> 
> drop me a line if u think this should be rated higher idk where the line falls 
> 
> this is knbxnba in that they're in ny/tatsuya plays for the knicks

Being here with Tatsuya makes Alex feel like she’s fucking nineteen all over again. She’s really horny right after breakfast—during breakfast, eve, Tatsuya fresh from the shower and shirtless with a mug of coffee in his hand, knuckles pressed to the coffee table, eye still sleepy. He’s too cute like this; she kisses him and tastes warm and bitter and even in the mid-morning heat, sweltering on the eleventh floor with the windows open, it’s pretty good,

He wants it, too; his gaze travels all over her body and she’s just as nearly-naked as she was before they’d gone to sleep last night but it’s already too hot that even just panties are beginning to feel like a mistake. Alex feels underexposed and overexposed, a badly-taken photograph with an attempted darkroom fix. Tatsuya sets his mug down on the edge of the coffee table and leans over. Alex meets him in the middle, his warm fingertips brushing her jaw and skimming down her neck, her collarbone, between her breasts. She pushes him down on the couch, straddles his waist and rolls her hips. His breath is sharp, his lips parted and wet, his eye staring into hers. Alex shoves her hands into his pants, pushing them down (thankfully, no belt) along with his underwear, halfway down his thighs and that’s good enough for now, good enough for him to take the initiative to kick them the rest of the way off. He’s got one hand on her waist and brushes his other thumb across the fabric of her underwear, right over her clit. She bucks her hips, trying to lean into his touch but he pulls away.

“Hey,” she says. “Tatsuya.”

He looks a little too pleased with himself. It’s too fucking hot for teasing. She guides the hand on her waist down to the waistband of her panties and leaves it there. It’s enough of a push for him to slip it inside under the elastic and—ah, fuck that feels good. She’s already wet; she’s already waited long enough but she doesn’t have to tell him that. He drags his thumb across her bare skin and she groans, rocking her hips again to meet him. He gives her a look, lashes lowered.

“Alex,” he says, voice deep in his throat.

She leans down to kiss him again.

* * *

They walk downtown after lunch, the heat simmering in the air and trapping all of the moisture so everything is thick and heavy. Alex’s hair reacts, some of it curling back in and sticking to her neck with sweat, the rest flying away from her head and frizzing in ways she barely knew it could. Tatsuya, for his part, is doing fine; his hair is holding its shape and the sweat and heaviness doesn’t seem to bother him nearly as much. Yes, he lives here, but he hasn’t for that long and he’s spent most of every summer back home in the desert, and even with that politician-perfect composure it’s not fair (she sees the hairline cracks when they’re there, and there sure as hell aren’t any now).

He holds her hand; it’s too hot but she doesn’t want to let go and it’s indulging herself as much as it’s indulging him, his slick sweaty thumb slipping against hers, legs on a waterslide. They stop for iced tea at a coffee shop with a broken air conditioner; there’s no line, though, and it’s relatively reasonably-priced (a rarity; there’s no way the shop will last long unless they start to overcharge). A gaggle of tourist nearly runs them down right when the step outside; they still manage to poke Alex with a selfie stick (right outside the edge of her glasses where it’s too blurry to tell) and she nearly drops her tea. Tatsuya pulls her in close, tucking his free hand around her waist, and she can tell from the set of his jaw that even without seeing his eye he’s glaring after them.

It’s too hot to be this angry, though Alex is a little amused and a little touched by Tatsuya’s show of chivalry. She kisses him on the cheek and that’s enough to distract him, rearrange his mouth into a softer shape.

They end up in the park by the East River, mostly free from children (they’ll have found a pool or someplace with air conditioning as a much-preferable alternative), one older woman sitting under a parasol with a newspaper and a water bottle sitting in a puddle of its own sweat.

“One on one?” says Tatsuya, pointing at the empty court.

Oh, it’s tempting, even without having a basketball and even in this heat and especially because Alex knows he’d been somewhat serious.

She puts her feet up in his lap, stretching them out and admiring her flip-flop tan. Flexing her toes, she notices the bottoms are streaked black with dirt already. How is everything here so damn filthy and grimy? And how does it not really bother either of them?

Maybe it’s the heat.

Alex steadies her hands on Tatsuya’s shoulders and leans up to kiss him; she can feel him smile against her mouth.

They stop at Rite-Aid on the way back over to the subway; Alex buys a hair clip and lets the teeth scrape soothing lines against her scalp as she fastens her hair, finally above her neck and twisted together. Tatsuya looks at her hungry like he wants her all over again, like he wants to reach through the overstuffed air and pull her against him.

The train back is crowded with tourists and office drones getting a head start on rush hour; it slows to a halt between 86th and 96th. At least the car’s air conditioned; it gives her an excuse to press up closer against Tatsuya and away from the clamminess of everyone around them; it gives his hands an excuse to roam, one down her waist and brushing her back and the other on her neck, under her hairline. They could stay here for a while, but when the train screeches into motion and she topples against Tatsuya it starts to feel like they can’t get back home fast enough.


End file.
